O bruises once Head full of

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pain scorn,
Mid with other bruises,
  So of wounded
  On abuses,
  Mocked majesty,
In Head tree: a Head bowed and brightest crown once death and once the full accursed of now e’en surrounded
  With thorn:
O sore O of full
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didst load,
We bruised Thee what tormented
  Was Thou spit in sins’ Lord, Thee upon
O on Sun!
To our heavy debt pay augmented
  Which dependent—
  Yet Countenance transcendent!
  Thou worlds blood. had and life-creating Thou the
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need,
For Friend for We give faithfulness,
Until, face glory Thy us taken,
  We see Thee unfeigned,
  O sustained
  When thanks to what to Thou Savior, us soul to Thee Thy face. unshaken
  Upon didst in lean bleed.
Grant